Maybe Baby
by Lassenby
Summary: Brick is worried that he might be pregnant. (NOT mpreg) (one-shot) (Brick/Mordecai)


**Author's Note:** Primarily Brick/Mordecai, but there's a rarepair in here for a friend. Also, my very funny husband was the brains behind almost all of these ideas. u/1362919/Leenden

* * *

"Mordy!"

"What?" Mordecai asked, his voice sated and sleepy.

"I told you to pull out," Brick said.

He rolled over to glare at his boyfriend, but his gaze softened when he saw Mordecai in the blue evening light. The man had sprawled on his back with his limbs splayed out haphazardly, bare skin stippled with sweat, dick drying across his thigh. He'd loosed his dreads, and they lay in a snarl across his pillow. He flashed Brick a drowsy smile.

"Why? You worried about getting pregnant?"

Brick scoffed. "No! That's stupid."

"Is it?"

"Yeah! I mean... it is, innit? Guys can't get pregnant," Brick said, only the last sentence came out as a question. He rolled onto his back beside his partner.

Mordecai continued to look at him with a small, inscrutable smile. "I donno, babe. I think some can. Sluts, mostly, who let their boyfriends cum inside them."

"I didn't let- Wait, you're screwin' with me," Brick said. His mouth turned down at the corners, eyebrows furrowed, and looked away.

Mordecai laughed: that familiar, slow chuckle which seemed to come from deep inside, the one that made Brick crazy about him. "You don't wanna raise a baby with me?" Mordecai teased.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, I gotta know! In case..." Mordecai patted Brick's stomach.

"Quit it! Anyway, you'd be a horrible dad. You'd never change the kid's diaper. Then, it'd be cryin', and you'd chuck it out the window."

"I would not! I'd make you change it."

"I ain't your housewife."

Mordecai gasped. "You wouldn't make an honest woman out of me?"

"I thought I'm the one who's knocked up."

"Hey, don't jump the gun on that. We can't be sure. You don't wanna send out the shower invitations until we know," Morecai said. He propped himself up, leaned over, and kissed Brick's chest, right over his heart. The sincerity in his voice gave Brick pause.

"Uh... you're joking, right?" he asked, stifling a groan as Mordecai's tongue washed over his nipple.

"No. Seriously, you shouldn't send the shower invitations too early. That could be real awkward." Mordecai leisurely swung a leg over Brick's waist and straddled his lap, so the larger man's erection rested along the curve of his ass. "You can try me, next."

"Try...?"

"To get me pregnant! So you better not pull out."

Brick opened his mouth to say something, probably to ask again if he was being serious, but Mordecai bent down to kiss him- a slow, luxuriant meeting of mouths- which made him forget about the pregnancy talk for awhile.

* * *

A week later, Brick knelt over the toilet, clutching the bowl with white knuckles. Tears stung his eyes, bile burned his throat. A long, sticky strand of drool hung from his chin. He felt too drained to wipe it away. He rested his flushed cheek against the porcelain seat.

Mordecai stood behind him, being entirely unhelpful.

"Morning sickness," he said.

Brick groaned in reply, without lifting his head.

Mordecai continued. "Yep. Looks like we can start sending those shower invites."

"Mordy, shut the hell u-" Brick started. A fresh wave of nausea gripped him. He leaned over the toilet and vomited, although there wasn't much left to eject, only stomach acid that scalded him on the way up. He felt like a volcano, maybe, or a big, bursting zit. He wanted to Mordecai to leave, to not see him that way.

"Yikes," Mordecai said from where he leaned in the doorway. "It's bad, huh?"

"Ate spoiled clams, 's all," Brick moaned. He rested an elbow on the toilet bowl and held his clammy forehead with one hand. "At Scooter's last night."

"You mean Moxxi's cooze, then?"

Brick nearly retched again. "Shit no! Why you gotta be disgusting?"

"Look who's talking," Mordecai replied. An unnecessary cruelty, in Brick's opinion, when he knew how exactly how horrible he looked.

Mordecai must have realized it, because a moment later Brick felt something touch his shoulder. He looked up, vision gauzy with tears, and saw Mordecai standing over him, a surprisingly tender look on his face.

"Sorry. I shouldn't talk like that to the mother of my child," he said. His concerned mouth twitched into a small grin.

That talk again. "I'm not..."

But Brick wasn't sure. Not totally sure, anyway. He'd paid only the barest minimum attention to sex-ed in school, only enough to hurl foul jokes with the rest of the kids, and The Talk had been a grumbled, stumbling, unclear mess from his bearlike father, a man with great big arms and an even bigger heart, but little skill with words.

"I love you," Mordecai said, out of the blue, surprising Brick. It wasn't the first time he'd said it, but they'd never been one of those couples who needed to declare their feelings constantly. Mordecai said it less than Brick, only when he was particularly taken.

Which, apparently, was now, with Brick huddled over the toilet, eyes red-rimmed and teary, mouth slick with spit, and he couldn't imagine why. But he said, "...I love you too."

And threw up.

* * *

"Roland? Can I ask you somethin'?" Brick asked.

"Sure." Roland sat with his back turned, going over some reports. Papers littered the bar in front of him and he clutched a half-drunk beer. Brick strolled up to sit on the stool beside him, and saw that the Raider Commander wore his thin-rimmed reading glasses. "Damn, I never knew there'd be so much paperwork in saving the world."

"Makes you miss the old days, huh?" Brick said.

"A little. Only reports I had to look over back then were bounties," Roland said, and sighed. "What did you need?"

"Oh, yeah. I wanted to ask... if... uh..." Brick stuttered. Roland raised an expectant brow, so Brick got it over with in a rushed tumble of words. "Can guys get pregnant? Like, if they do it with another guy?"

Brick wasn't sure how Roland would react, but was surprised to see his mouth set in a grim, angry line, and his eyebrows turn down in a glare. "Did Mordecai put you up to this?"

"Mordy? No!" Brick said, or rather, squawked. He and Mordecai hadn't gone public with their relationship yet, and it startled him to hear Roland say his name.

"Listen, I work hard. I don't need this crap. You bust your ass to protect a town and it doesn't make you a hero, but you kiss one man and everyone says you're gay, and make shitty jokes-"

"Whoah, whoah-"

"I thought he was dying! He said he'd never kissed anyone before, and I was the only one around! What the hell was I supposed to do? Say, 'Sorry, Scooter, you better take it up with the angels, because I'm not gay?' No! I manned up, and I kissed that kid. It was the right thing to do."

Brick's gawped. "Uhm."

Roland continued out of awkwardness. "I wouldn't have done it if I'd known Mordecai and Zed were just around the corner. But, shit, he was bleeding everywhere, I thought he was a goner. Would I do it again? No! I mean, if I were really, really drunk, maybe. Has he asked me to? Sure. But I'm not that way. I'm with Lilith."

"Right."

"I'm not gay."

Brick nodded dumbly, and Roland finally seemed to realize that he was rambling and perhaps Brick had not been ribbing him, after all.

"Uh. What was your question, again?"

"Nothin'," Brick said, and stood up so fast that the stool fell over behind him. The crack of it hitting the floor made him jump. "It was dumb. I gotta go."

"Okay," Roland said, the frantic tone gone from his voice. "Could you, uh... not tell anyone about this conversation?"

"I won't," Brick said. He hadn't been planning to. He hurried out of the bar and heard Roland mumbling to himself.

_Damn! I'm such an idiot... all that kid's fault... that stupid, sweet hick..._

* * *

Mordecai was sewing something. Brick had seen him sew before, and knew that he'd been forced to learn after his mother abandoned the family, and his father started drinking heavily. Mordecai had basically raised his younger siblings. That meant mending their clothes, because they'd had no money to replace them. Anymore, he rarely sewed.

Now he sat cross-legged on the floor of the apartment he and Brick shared (as roommates, they told anyone who asked. Just best friends who happened to sleep on the same stained, threadbare mattress) with a garment draped across his lap. He'd pushed his goggles up on his head while he worked. With deft fingers, he worked a needle in and out, in and out, in and...

Brick could think of something else he'd like Mordecai to put in and out, but he'd already tried to nibble Mordecai's ear, and been slapped away for it.

He'd pouted off to sit on the bed nearby, (the apartment had only one large living space) to bother Mordecai with words rather than kisses.

"A sweater?"

"No, _baboso,_ you knit a sweater, you don't sew it," Mordecai replied, without looking up.

"What's the difference?"

"Nevermind. It's not a sweater."

"Socks?"

"Are you kidding? Does this look like it could be socks?"

"Socks for a giant."

Mordecai groaned. "You're making me regret this."

"Why? Is it something for me?" Brick bounced up and down a little.

"Yeah," Mordecai said.

"What is it?"

"It's almost done. Be quiet for five Goddamn minutes, and I'll show you."

"You shouldn't say the Lord's name in-" Brick said, but Mordecai shot him a look, and he fell silent. He waited impatiently for what felt like much longer than five minutes.

"Done," Mordecai said at last, and held up the thing he'd been working on.

It was an apron, white with pink trim, pink straps, and, across the chest, a pink line of embroidered text- Baby on Board.

"Oh," Brick said.

"You don't like it?"

Brick tried to read Mordecai's expression, but found it impossible. He looked back and forth from the apron to Mordecai's face, and wondered if the man would have worked that hard on a joke. He'd been sewing all day.

"No, it's great," Brick said, finally. "I like, uh, the words. How you sewed 'em on there like that."

"Only the best for _mi cielo, _and the bun in his oven," Mordecai grinned, and went to join Brick on the mattress. He curled up on the larger man's lap.

Brick wasn't sure how to repeat his concerns about the baby issue. Whether Mordecai were joking or serious, if Brick brought it up again, he would look like an idiot. He'd never heard of it, but maybe men could get pregnant. Maybe it was like parents told kids- when two people love each other very much... and Brick did love his tempestuous, surprisingly domestic, infuriatingly glib boyfriend, more than anything in the world, even more than punching bandits in their faces.

Mordecai planted a line of kisses across his jaw.

"You'd be a good dad," Brick said suddenly. "Not like yours."

"Oh?"

"You'd sew the kid's clothes, and make him lunch. You'd take good care of him. You already take good care of me."

Mordecai reached up to touch Brick's cheek, and kissed him, impatiently, urgently, like he trying to release some dangerous buildup of pressure.

"You asshole. You say the best things," he swore against Brick's mouth.

* * *

Brick wore the apron around the house, at first as a joke, and then with a kind of uncertain sentimentality. Mordecai remained inscrutable. He talked about the baby sometimes, and sounded sincere, but other times he'd laugh, and Brick felt out of his mind with not knowing, but couldn't imagine who to ask.

He stopped drinking. Every time his stomach fluttered, he wondered- gas, or tiny feet? And how the hell would he get a baby out of there?

On one long, lazy day, Mordecai went out to pick up an ammunition order from Marcus. Brick stayed home to surprise his boyfriend with dinner. He donned the apron and meandered around the tiny kitchen, broad shoulders knocking against everything, looking into the cupboards. He decided to make his patently passable macaroni and cheese, one of three things he knew how to cook. Someone knocked on the door.

Forgetting the apron, he crossed the room to answer it. Lilith stood outside, clutching a cup in her hands.

"Can I borrow your shotgun? The really explode-y one?"

Brick looked at the cup.

"Oh, and some sugar. I'm gonna bake Roland a cake, and if that doesn't get him to pay attention to me, then I'm gonna murder him. That's what the gun is for," she said. She tried to make light of it, but Brick could tell by the way she ran a shaking hand through her hair that she was frayed.

"You better get in here," Brick said, stepping aside to let Lilith through. "Don't want the Marshall hearin' that."

"I'm pissed off!" she said, and flopped down on the mattress, sprawled out dramatically, a wrist laid across her eyes. "Roland's never around anymore. I don't know what's going on with the runners, but he's always down there at Scooter's Catch-a-Ride, trying to work it out."

_Trying to work it out,_ Brick thought. _That sounds right. _He said nothing, only nodded sympathetically.

Lilith looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Baby on board, huh? What's that about?"

Brick glanced down at himself, remembering the apron. "Well... uh..." Finding no good excuse, he settled for the truth. "I might have a bun in the oven."

"You're baking?" she asked, and peered into the kitchen behind him.

"No, I meant... I might be in the family way."

Lilith laughed. Brick looked at the ceiling, then at the floor- anywhere but at the woman in whooping hysterics on his bed. She wiped tears out of her eyes and said, "You've got a weird sense of humor, Brick."

"Yeah."

"You alright? I didn't offend you, did I?"

"Nah, I..." He what? He half-believed that he was pregnant? Now he understood how disastrously dumb that had been, and the worst part was the disappointment burning a hole through him. "It's an inside joke. I didn't mean to say nothin' about it." He realized, far too late, that 'an inside joke' would have been the perfect response to her earlier question.

"Between you and Mordecai, right?"

"Yeah."

"You and him... I never asked... but you're together, right? You're a couple?"

Brick blinked, taken aback. "How'd you know?"

"It's not exactly subtle. He looks at you like..." she gestured, drawing shapes in the air, and Brick didn't understand.

"Huh?"

"Like you're the sun and moon." Lilith frowned. "Roland used to look at me like that. Listen, I hate to ask you this, but you're gay. Right? Or bi?"

"Gay."

"Okay, so maybe you can tell when people are... if people... shit. Do you think Roland might be? Gay, I mean?"

Brick considered the question for a moment. "I think he needs to work some stuff out," he answered diplomatically. Lilith sighed.

"I thought so. I don't think I'll be baking the cake, after all. You want some company for dinner?" she asked.

"Nah. I don't wanna be rude, but Mordy's gonna be home soon and I've gotta have a talk to him about something," Brick hadn't known he was going to confront Mordecai about the baby stuff until he'd said it. Lilith nodded.

"Okay. I should probably talk to Roland, too." She came to hug Brick, standing on her tip-toes to wrap her arms around his neck. He embraced her. Her hair smelled metallic, earthy, like volcanic rocks.

"Thanks," she said.

"You too. I mean, you're welcome," Brick said.

They said goodbye. Brick stood in the doorway of the second floor apartment and watched her turn the corner, passing Mordecai in the street. He couldn't hear their exchange, but they seemed to greet each other amicably before hurrying their own ways- Lilith to confront Roland, and Mordecai, home to his boyfriend. With no shooting to do around town, Mordecai had left his goggles off. When he spotted Brick in the doorway, he grinned, and his eyes lit up by both the sun and moon.

* * *

Brick stripped off the apron before Mordecai reached the house and threw it into the corner, where it remained while they ate. The noodles had overcooked, but Mordecai said nothing about it. They made casual conversation throughout the meal, but Brick didn't broach the topic of the teasing, not sure how to bring it up.

Then Mordecai gave him an opening.

"You want seconds? You're eating for two, now," he said, gesturing toward Brick's stomach with his fork. It felt, to Brick, as though the tines had somehow reached all the way across the table and jabbed him, but that was only embarrassment needling his insides.

"Stop it," he snapped. "It wasn't fuckin' funny the first time, and it ain't funny now."

Mordecai glowered at him. "Fine."

They moved their food around for awhile, not eating, not talking.

"I thought you could take a Goddamn joke, is all," Mordecai said at last, unable to keep from picking. "I forgot that you're such a wuss."

"Whatever. You got me, okay? Joke's over."

"Got you?"

Brick stared down at his gummy, overcooked bowl of macaroni, and said nothing. Mordecai laughed, just like Lilith had, but more hurtfully, because he should have known better. He was the only one Brick had told about the teasing from his childhood, the names and rhymes... Brick the thick, among others.

"You're not saying... that you thought...?" Mordecai asked. Brick still didn't reply. "Oh man, babe, that's just..." He erupted into a fresh gale of laughter.

Brick glanced at the apron, crumpled in the corner. Mordecai followed his gaze and stopped cackling. He got up, crossed the room, and picked up the tossed garment. He brushed dust off it, and stared down at the embroidered text.

"It's sweet," he finished, finally. "You thought..." He shook his head, and chuckled again.

"It ain't funny," Brick said again.

"Not even a little?"

"Not to me. I was kinda... lookin' forward to it." Brick didn't know why he confessed that, except that he always went to Mordecai for comfort, even when he'd been the one to hurt him.

"I'm sorry," Mordecai said, without any prompting or wheedling. Whenever their fights escalated to the point of requiring apology in the past, it had taken days to drag a simple 'I'm sorry' out of the man, and even then he'd spat the words as though they tasted vile.

But now he stared down at the apron he held, running a thumb over the raised words, and looked sincerely regretful.

"It's fine," Brick said, although it didn't feel fine.

Mordecai sat down on the mattress, back pressed against the wall, and sighed. He patted the bed beside him for Brick to sit down. He obeyed, ever the dog. Mordecai leaned against his shoulder and wrapped one arm around Brick's much wider arm, and laced their fingers together. The apron lay across his lap.

"I didn't mean to trick you."

"You could'a fooled me." Brick snorted. "You did, actually."

"To be honest, I just made jokes about it because... I liked the idea too. You said that stuff about how I'd be a good dad, and I kind of wanted that, to have a kid with you. We could teach it stuff, cook food for it-"

"I can't cook," Brick sniffed, looking at the dinner he'd ruined.

"But I could. And you can teach it about rocket launchers, or something," Mordecai said, and pressed his lips to Brick's arm. His beard tickled Brick's skin. That, and the comment about the launchers, brought a smile to his lips.

"Sure. But..." The smile slipped away. "It don't matter. We can't have a baby."

"Do you want to, though?"

"Come on, Mordy. What're you gonna do, steal someone's kid? That's fucked up."

Mordecai laughed, but with no hardness or judgement- only love. He dragged Brick into an impassioned kiss, fingers curling against Brick's close-cropped hair. He pulled him down onto the bed until they lay together in a twisted nest of blankets and each other's limbs.

"I won't steal a kid, I promise. But I'll figure something out."

* * *

A week later, Mordecai came home from a supply run with a squirming blanket clutched in both arms. Brick met him with confusion, until a puppy wriggled free of the bungle. His eyes lit up- sun and moon- and hugged them both. Mordecai let him name their pup.

He called it Dusty.


End file.
